


Damaged Souls

by LivingInSmilesIsBetter (axm)



Category: Forever (TV)
Genre: 1x22, F/M, Henry/Jo friendship - Freeform, Mortinez, Spoilers, finale, jenry, post-ep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-07
Updated: 2015-05-07
Packaged: 2018-03-29 10:52:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3893677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/axm/pseuds/LivingInSmilesIsBetter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"They were both too damn good at shutting people out. Someone had to force them to talk. He was more than happy to be that person." 1x22 Post-Ep. Spoilers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Damaged Souls

He stepped back, giving Jo space to enter, giving Henry a moment to collect his thoughts. A hopeful hesitance shone in Jo's eyes, and she mouthed ' _thank you_ '. But he couldn't return the soft smile playing on her lips, couldn't force his own mouth to turn up in the corners. Even if he tried it would never reach his eyes. There had been enough lies.

Henry stared down at the photo he still gripped in his hands, and Abe could almost see the thoughts swirling in his mind as he tried to figure out how to start.

"Perhaps downstairs?" Abe suggested, his voice low, being careful not to startle these two damaged souls, but strong enough to make his suggestion a command.

Jo's eyes darted from him to his father, but she stood, silent, trying to figure it all out, wondering what was about to be revealed to her, just waiting, patient as always.

Henry raised his head, a slow, precise movement, and nodded in acceptance. "Yes." It was time. There was no escaping now.

"Start at the beginning," Abe suggested.

Henry nodded again. "The beginning," he echoed.

Resting a hand on Henry's arm, Abe leaned in and said quietly, "And don't leave anything out. Tell her about Nora. Tell her about Abigail. All the beginnings, all the endings. She needs to understand why you're so damn stubborn." So damn strange, more like. But stubborn felt kinder in that moment.

He pulled away and glanced at Jo. She had heard, as he had intended. Her eyes had narrowed as she'd taken the words in, her mouth a tight line of anticipation for what was to come. Abe gave her a soft smile, but her own features refused to relax, refused to return it. He understood. Resting a hand on her arm this time, he gave it a light squeeze. "Listen to him, okay," he told her in a stern, but kind, tone. "Even if you want to just walk right out of here, at least let him finish first. Let him tell his story."

Jo swallowed. She stuffed her hands into her pockets nervously, until her balled up fists strained at the seams and he could see her knuckles flexing even through the material. "I will." She blinked in rapid succession, like clearing her vision might clear her mind. He loathed to tell her she might never think clearly again, but despite keeping the thoughts to himself he could feel them deepening the lines around his eyes, further marring his brow with regrets. "You're scaring me," she admitted.

She had every right to be completely terrified. What Henry was about to tell her was going to change her entire view of the world. He knew. He'd been there. Instead of quelling her fears, he replied, "When he has finished, when you've heard it all, if you need to leave, talk to me first. Promise me that."

"I promise," she said, her voice little more than a whisper.

"You don't have to believe everything right away. Belief will come in time. But tonight, when you want to walk straight out that door, I'll be here."

"Okay." Jo looked at Henry and he nodded at her in return.

"Come," Henry said, his own fears tightening his face, "there's a lot to tell."

Abe watched as his father led Jo down the stairs, hesitation in both their gaits. Once the door had closed after them and silence filled the store, he took a seat, and waited. He would sit there all night if he had to. He wouldn't let Jo leave without seeing him first. He would only move once he wasn't needed anymore.

 

* * *

 

Minutes turned into an hour, turned into two. He had - begrudgingly - moved from his seat for a bathroom break, and again to collect something he knew they would need later. His weary bones ached as he pushed himself out of his chair and went about his business as quickly as he could. Upon returning each time he had stopped by the door down to the laboratory and listened, and both times he heard Henry weaving his tale, and he could only hope Jo was still listening too.

And every time he had sat back down he had felt every one of his seventy years, and it reminded him how desperately Henry needed Jo - whether Henry cared to admit to it or not.

When hour three was almost upon him, and he was debating a quick snack, the door opened, and Jo stepped through. Her tired, red-rimmed eyes met Abe's and she faltered, her step a little shaky, before pushing forward to where he sat. She dropped heavily into the chair he'd placed beside him, her eyes cast down, a shudder in her hand as she gripped the arm-rest. She didn't speak, didn't meet his eyes, just sat, collecting herself.

Abe reached for the bottle of wine he had placed beside him earlier, poured them both generous amounts, and handed her a glass. He nudged her gently to get her attention when the glass went unnoticed. She glanced up, took the wine, and downed it in one go. He refilled it without a word.

The silence stretched, and he allowed it. No need to push her, she would speak when ready. The moment came. Jo sipped the wine, staring out amongst the antiques, probably with more awareness now as to where many of them had come from. "What the hell did I just listen to?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper and hoarser than he'd ever heard.

He pursed his lips as he considered how to respond. "What do you think?" he prodded. Despite his words his voice was kind.

"You're his son?" She tore her eyes off the trinkets before her and met his eyes. She studied his face, reading his body language and searching for signs of deceit. "How is that possible?"

"He told you how."

Jo swallowed hard. "He did."

"Do you believe him?"

She exhaled slowly, emptying her lungs and dropping her shoulders in defeat. "I don't know what to believe," she admitted.

"Every word he spoke was the truth."

Jo didn't respond. She held the glass up, and then swallowed down what remained. This time, he didn't refill it.

"What will you do with this information?"

Her eyes were harder than he'd ever seen as they locked on his, growing darker still as anger flared within her. "What am I supposed to do with it? It's not like I can tell anyone." She sounded hurt, confused, frustrated, everything she should be. But still, there was a hint of wonder, and that gave Abe hope. Because maybe, somewhere, in some small part of her brain, or in a corner of her heart, she did believe it all.

"No." Abe took her empty glass from her and laid his hand on her arm. "He trusts you, kid. He wouldn't have told you otherwise. You know Henry. He would have made some excuse, talked his way out of the corner we both put him in. But he told you. Understand what that means."

She didn't reply at first. She held his eyes, and he could feel them being searched for any hints of a lie. "He says he trusts me but..." Running a hand through her hair, her body shuddered a little as she chose her next words. "I don't know what to believe."

"He's been hurt," Abe reminded her. "He's suffered so much loss. Too much for a single human heart."

"He told me," she replied in a soft voice.

"You gotta understand why he struggles with this."

"I do."

"Immortality, Jo. That doesn't exist, right?" At Jo's slight nod, he reminded her, "It does."

"Yeah," she said on an exhaled breath, like a whoosh of resistance leaving her. He hoped that was what it was, anyway.

"So you believe him?"

Jo sighed and gripped the arm of the chair a little harder. "I want to."

"That's a good start."

"Can I leave now?" she asked, her voice wavering.

"Will Henry see you tomorrow?"

"Yes."

"I'll let him know," Abe replied, giving her no choice but to interact with her partner tomorrow.

Jo pushed herself to her feet, but he stopped her with a hand on her arm. "I'm taking you home."

"Oh." She blinked, like she hadn't seen it coming. "Um…"

"It's non-negotiable."

She softened, and nodded. "Okay."

It felt like a promising start.

 

* * *

 

When Henry walked in looking haggard the next day Abe could see it hadn't gone well.

"What happened?"

Sighing in defeat, Henry swept both hands out in front of him and announced to the empty store, "She thinks I'm mad."

Abe narrowed his eyes at his father. "Did she say that?"

"That's the problem, Abraham, she barely spoke to me all day. Things are rather strained right now."

"It's been one day," Abe replied, remaining calm. "Give her time."

"Time to watch her disappear from my life completely," Henry said, throwing his hands up, being as dramatic as ever. "I knew this was a bad idea." He punctuated the sentence with a glare.

Abe shook his head and reached for the phone, dialing before Henry could react.

Henry's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Who are you calling?"

But Abe was already speaking. "Evening, Jo. Henry and I have decided you must join us for dinner tonight."

_"Abe, no, I-"_

"I won't accept any excuses," he said in a firm tone. "I'll be there to collect you in ten minutes. Be ready."

"Abraham!" Henry scolded him as the phone was placed back in its cradle.

"What?" Abe asked innocently. He exited the shop, leaving a stunned Henry gaping at his audacity. They were both too damn good at shutting people out. Someone had to force them to talk. He was more than happy to be that person.

 

* * *

 

Abe placed a bowl of spaghetti in front of a nervous Jo. "Always a pleasure having you here," he told her, and she gave him a weak smile. She didn't, however, look at Henry, and chose to focus her attention on Abe for the majority of the evening. By dessert she had loosened up enough to wave a finger in front of her face to indicate to Henry he had cream on the corner of his lips. When he smiled his thanks, and Jo grinned in return, Abe knew they'd be fine.

For a few minutes at least.

She sobered quickly, her face turning grim, her eyes darkening, and she admitted, "I'm trying to believe it all."

"Not there yet?" Abe asked.

"No," she replied. "Not even close."

"I know stories he won't have shared. Want some more tales you might not believe?"

She nodded and sat up a little straighter, ready to listen if nothing more. "Sure."

"Not a sad story," Henry warned.

Abe rolled his eyes. "Fine. In the early nineteen hundreds Henry died from syphilis."

"Oh my God, Abraham!"

Getting Henry's voice to squeak like that always made him feel a little smug.

Jo looked shell-shocked for a moment, her eyes darting between Henry and Abe, unsure how she should react, but her amusement won, and she bit into her lower lip to stifle a chuckle.

"Well he never said I couldn't tell an embarrassing one, did he," Abe announced.

Henry groaned and got to his feet, leaving the room as complete mortification overcame him. Abe merely folded his arms across his chest and sat, feeling a touch haughty, waiting for Jo to give in. She hesitated, but at Abe's silent nudge, she followed Henry outside, unable to suppress the twitch in her lips as she tried - and failed - to hide her smirk. Abe soon heard low chuckling from both of them out on the terrace, and he knew they'd be just fine.

 

* * *

 

A week later, Henry returned from work looking sadder than he'd seen in a while.

"Does she believe you yet?"

Henry shook his head. "She says yes, but she can't even look me in the eye when she answers the question."

"She'll come around."

"Will she?" Henry asked darkly.

"Yes," Abe reassured him. "She's working through it. Be patient with her."

"I am. I promise." He sighed. "I can't lose her, Abe. I… She's…" He huffed out a frustrated breath.

"You care about her. I know. She important to you. Yeah, I can see that." Abe chuckled. "Anyone who watches you two can see that."

"Oh do be quiet, Abraham," Henry huffed.

 

* * *

 

Two weeks passed, and he began to wonder if Jo might ever truly believe it. And then, one evening, when he considered another dinner, more wine, and a good, long talk, the door to the store swung open, and a dripping Henry dragged his feet inside, a thermal emergency blanket wrapped tight around him - and Jo following in his wake.

Henry pushed through without a word, up the stairs, but Jo stopped. She met Abe's eyes and wrapped her arms around herself, and he recognized shock when he saw it. Ushering her up the stairs, he covered her shoulders with the red blanket off the couch, and fussed with it until it was pulled tight around her. He eased her down onto the sofa, sat beside her, and took her clammy hands in his own.

"What happened?"

Jo blinked, and when she met his eyes he saw a glaze coating them. He suspected she wasn't even seeing him. But her voice, though weak, said, "He took a bullet for me."

"Better him than you, trust me."

"He died," she said, like she hadn't heard him. Her hands were limp beneath his, resting, shaking more than he liked. "I believe everything now," she whispered. "I believe it all, Abe." Her vision cleared, and with a burst of strength she tugged her hands out from his, and then slung her arms around his neck, wrapping him in an embrace when he should have been the one hugging her. "Does it ever get easier to witness?"

"No," Abe replied, as gently as he could, rubbing her back, trying to comfort her. "It doesn't."

"With his last breath he told me where to wait for him and then… then he..."

"He disappeared."

He felt Jo nod against his shoulder. "I went to the river, and he was waiting for me. Alive." She sucked in a shaky breath. "Bastard took a bullet for me."

"Get used to it."

"How?" She shifted out of his arms and wiped at her damp cheeks. "I saw him die. How do you get used to that?"

"You have to."

Jo exhaled, faltering as she sucked in a breath.

"He's alive, go see him."

"I…" She shook her head. "I need a minute." She sat in silence at Abe's side, working through it all. "I'm angry," she admitted. "I'm completely pissed off."

"Because he saved your life."

"Yes!" she exclaimed, before admitting in a resigned tone, "No. Because I wasn't convinced. I thought I believed him, but I didn't. Not really. But then… he had to be an ass and prove it." Her eyes softened, and she asked, "How did you find out. When did you believe it all?"

"I was looking through an album one day. I found a photo, like the one you found, of my mom and dad holding me as a baby. I realized then how much older my mom looked, how my dad hadn't changed at all. I questioned it, and over the course of the following few months they eased me into the truth." Abe gave her a soft smile. "I was fifteen."

"And Abigail? How did she…?"

"He died in her arms." He smiled as he recounted the story his parents had told him. "He snuck home to say final goodbyes to me, and mom caught him. She held him until he understood he was safe and didn't have to leave us."

"He's good at walking away, isn't he?"

Sadness gripped at his heart, and he remembered the emptiness, the years without his father, without his mother, alone. "He's had a lot of practice, Jo."

Huffing out a breath, she stood, clenched her hands into tight fists, and then relaxed. "I'm ready," she decided, determination in her voice.

"Second door on the left," Abe told her. "Maybe knock first or you might get a repeat of a view I suspect you got earlier."

A soft puff of laughter left her lips. "He couldn't have warned me about the whole naked thing in advance? I mean, I get the skinny dipping thing now, but I wasn't expecting it at the time. I didn't make the connection, everything was so confusing. And then a naked, dripping Henry stepped out from behind a tree."

"Another thing to get used to."

Jo smiled, and he felt like it was the first real smile he'd seen from her in weeks.

"He needs you, Jo. Go easy on him, let him know he has more than just me to hang around for."

"I need him too," she whispered, her voice breaking as she struggled to keep control of her emotions.

Abe nodded, and pointed her towards Henry's room. She was striding towards it, when Henry, thankfully dressed now, turned the corner and entered the living room. They both stopped, mid-step, staring at one another, the next move unknown. Jo found her courage first; she bridged the distance between them, and carefully placed her hands on either side of his face, brushing her thumbs against his cheeks, but struggling with words. Henry tensed up in surprise the moment her hands touched his face, but he soon visibly relaxed. His arms snaked around her waist, and hers slipped from his face, sliding around his neck. He tugged her body closer and they stepped into a mutual embrace, both their bodies relaxing as they sank into one another. A quiet reverence filled the air around them. Aware they were lost in the moment, the rest of the world having dissolved around them, Abe stood and stepped outside, giving them privacy and however much time they needed. He smiled to himself as he stood out on the terrace, feeling the shifted weight of a secret now shared by one more.

When his time came, whenever that happened to be, he could go, knowing his pops was going to be just fine.


End file.
